


Ride 'Em Cowboy

by WolfyWordWeaver



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - America, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Blood and Injury, Country & Western, Cowboy Hats, Cowboys & Cowgirls, Hospitals, Lapdance, M/M, Meet-Cute, Simon punches Baz, Strip Tease, Strippers & Strip Clubs, hints of Dev/Niall, sexual tension between Malcolm Grimm and the Mage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:42:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27275134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfyWordWeaver/pseuds/WolfyWordWeaver
Summary: Before going on a months long trip to the Midwest with his father for business, Baz is dragged to a strip club on a Cowboy Themed night for one last hurrah by his friends Dev and Niall. It just happens that at the club he meets Simon Snow, a stripper that shakes his world and makes him want things that he think he can't have.Except, maybe Simon wants those things too.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 20
Kudos: 74





	Ride 'Em Cowboy

**Author's Note:**

> Songs in the Fic  
> "Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy" by Big & Rich  
> "Who's Your Daddy" by Toby Keith
> 
> Recommended Listening  
> "Strip It Down" by Luke Bryan  
> "What Was I Thinkin'" by Dierks Bentley  
> "Nobody But You" by Blake Shelton (ft. Gwen Stefani)  
> "Boys 'Round Here" by Blake Shelton  
> "Country Girl (Shake It For Me)" by Luke Bryan  
> "Drunk On A Plane" by Dierks Bentley  
> "Cruise" by Florida Georgia Line  
> "Tornado" by Little Big Town

"This isn't funny," Baz growled in annoyance as he began looking for the exit.

Dev could barely breathe from his laughter and Niall was wiping actual _tears_ from his eyes as he tried to egg Baz forward.

"C-come on, man, you need to...live a little."

Dev started wheezing through his snorts at that. "Come!" he gasped before giggling again.

The young Heir to the Grimm Agricultural Empire was not looking amused. 

"We are not doing this," Baz tried again, his hand clenched tightly around the blasted complimentary calendar this establishment was giving out with tonight's tickets. "I have work to-"

"But that's why you have to do it!" Niall interrupted zealously. "Your dad's taking you out to the boring ass plains of the Midwest to inspect _cows_ and _grass_! You're starting a job you've never wanted and are going to be miserable in! So why not stick it to the old man and have some fun beforehand?"

"And cowboy strippers are definitely the way to do that!" Dev added as if it was the most logical thing in the world. "Dude, we know how many times you've watched _Brokeback Mountain_."

"They weren't real cowboys!" Baz protested with a bit of an embarrassed blush. 

"Those guys had the boots and hats," Dev tutted. "Good enough. And anyway, it's not like any of these guys are real cowboys either. Just have some fun with it!"

Baz looked down at the crumpled calendar and swallowed thickly. So what if he had a thing for handsome guys in boots, chaps, and cowboy hats? He was a gay man who's father owned a good portion of the agricultural endeavors in the United States. Farms were kind of the thing his father had always dragged him to and along with the farms came farmers and the barrel-chested, rugged cowboys. 

The young man on the front cover of the calendar was a bit more youthful than the cowboys he was used to seeing out in the field. He had a golden glow about his very freckled skin and a wide open smile that promised fun. There was black hat precariously perched on his tawny curls, a red bandana around his neck (was he supposed to be a coach robber or something?), _nipple tassels_ (Crowley), and the most ridiculous (delicious) white thong and holster combo. Those curvy thighs were absolute sin and they were perfectly complimented by the beautiful white boots with red stars boldly stitched into the leather. 

_"Those would never survive a round at the stockyards_ ," Baz thought to himself, perhaps in a failed attempt to keep the attention on those boots and not moving back up towards that _bulge_ in the thongs. 

A rope was twirling over the man's head as he was reared back on top of a wooden-horse like contraption and the garishly decorated words "Ride 'Em Cowboy" glittered on the page.

"Look, they're getting started!" Dev cheered a bit too excitedly for a supposed heterosexual and in a moment of poor (terrible, really) judgement Baz followed along without resistance.

Fuck it all, it's not like there was anything his father could do and there was no harm in ogling at all the pretty guys disrobing on stage tonight.

*****

The opening song was chock full of energy and Simon Snow was already bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. Shepard was laughing at him while he adjusted the jean pull-aways on his own legs.

"Damn, boy. You know that Penny would totally be here watching me tonight if it wasn't for you."

Simon shrugged. "I dunno what her problem is, Shep. She's seen me naked plenty of times before."

"Yeah, but that's because you don't have any sense of propriety and walk around the apartment in your birthday suit."

"I run hot! And hey, there was that time we all went skinny dipping. She did that all on her own."

Shep snickered at the memory. "Okay, but Penny can never turn down a dare, man."

"It's our turn soon," Simon grinned before adjusting his holster. "Ready?"

It was Calendar Night, the official release date of their yearly calendar, and each act was wearing the outfit that they had been photographed in. Simon's thong was currently hidden under pull-away shorts and a set of shiny ass-less chaps. Shepard was decked in glittery purple boots and a matching vest with pull-away denims that hid his own white thong. 

"It's Raining Men," played as Gareth collected his tips and offered a few flirty glances towards the crowd. He sauntered off the stage and threw a wink to the other two.

"Go get 'em," he whispered before the music switched over to one of Simon's absolute favorites. 

Penny had cringed when she found out what song they would be dancing to and had actually begged them to use a different one.

"It's cheesy, Simon," she groaned. "And tasteless. Please, for the love of any remaining respect that I have for my boyfriend, don't use that song."

But Simon and Shepard were absolutely going to be dancing to it.

_"Well I walked into the the room, passing hundred dollar bills and it kills and it thrills..."_

Shepard stepped out first with a swagger and a fun wiggle to his hips. The crowd went wild as he trailed his forefinger teasingly along the rim of his hat before working his way to the other end of the stage. 

_"...and everybody's getting down and this town AIN'T NEVER GONNA BE THE SAME!"_

Simon burst through the curtains shooting off his finger guns and singing along shamelessly to the song. "'Cause I saddle up my horse and I'll ride into the ci~tay," he sang with practiced ease as he swayed his hips in beat with the song. 

He'd never been good with words, always tripping over them and stammering especially when he didn't know the other person, but when it came to expressing himself physically Simon was as confident as he ever got. It wasn't like he was a real professional, someone who could make it big in places like Las Vegas or something, but he could bring the masses of screaming people into an eager roar and he was good at filling the room with energy. Simon was a person who always felt too full of energy, always needing to be _doing_ something and all the schooling and work stuff that he'd been previously involved in had been so draining and stifling. Here on the stage he could let all of that energy out, let it flow in one continuous burst through the song as he shimmied, strutted, and stripped.

The flimsy black shorts flew off while the crowd screamed, "Save a horse, ride a cowboy!!!"

Shep had lost the denims and was now close enough to grid up against Simon. They both laughed in each other's faces as they humped together and accidentally knocked their hats against each other's. 

"SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY!!!"

They spun away from each other and Shep's vest sailed into the crowd while Simon jerked off his pseudo button-up and tossed it to the side. He caught sight of a familiar bush of hair and grinned more widely. Penny would never miss one of Shep's shows if it didn't conflict with one of her school events, even if the song they used was her least favorite because of how easily it got stuck in her head. She would even endure seeing her flatmate strutting about half naked to support her boyfriend.

Turning his backside to the delighted crowd, Simon decided to go for it and do an actual twerk. He'd been practicing for weeks and it seemed to be a good time to try it in a show. This group seemed particularly forgiving and he'd be sure to get pity tips if it failed spectacularly. He did a couple of quick dips to get the crowd excited and Shep hopped across the stage excitedly to compliment the upcoming twerking.

Simon threw one last flirty look over his shoulder before facing the back of the stage and popping his ass like nobody's business. Shep pretended to faint from the shock of that ass twerking and the whole crowd roared in appreciation. The assless chaps did an excellent job in drawing all the eyes to his firm backside and soon enough he did a full body roll and twisted around to give a few gratuitous hip thrusts. That seemed to do a good job of reviving Shepard and he flipped up before tossing off the boxers to reveal his thonged crotch. 

Simon was fanning himself and the excited girls at the front of the stage were screaming loudly enough to leave the dancers' ears ringing for hours. The lights were flashing faster as they drew closer to the end of the performance and Simon could feel the swell of anticipation. A sheen of sweat served to compliment the body glitter he had painted all over his body earlier.

"And the girls say, 'Save a horse, ride a cowboy!" Shepard led the crowd while clapping his hands.

"Everybody says," Simon hollered, "SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY!" 

His chaps were tossed to the side of the stage (too expensive to throw into the crowd) and knelt right at the front of the stage to give a good few thrusts to the beat. There were ladies throwing cash at him and a few odd ones who were throwing dimes. Platinum blonde sorority girls, housewives looking for a bit of entertainment, bridal parties hoping for some stories to share in their future, and even the occasional fellow. 

Sweat dripped into his eyes, but Simon felt his eyes widen unconsciously as he caught sight of the most beautiful person he'd ever seen. Grey eyes, black hair almost dark enough to be blue, tall with legs for miles, and wearing a rad suit with constellations embroidered over the dark blue galaxy swirls. 

"-RIDE A COWBOY!" the song and crowd finished and Simon blushed and offered a quick smile again to the entire crowd.

"Give it up for our handsome dancers Omaha and Snow!" the emcee announced and the crowd obliged. 

Shepard and Simon made quick work of gathering their tips while the next act was announced. By the time Simon hastily looked over the crowd that beautiful man was nowhere in sight.

*****

There was laughter all around them, but Baz couldn't seem to focus on anything but the shaking in his hands and the strong taste of alcohol in his mouth. That man had been there, right on the stage! It made a lot more sense now as to why they had placed him on the front cover of the calendar. Not that he was any kind of expert on strippers or other performers, but Baz was certain that it wasn't common for performers to be enjoying themselves that much. How did he seem to light to whole room up so easily? And that performance with the other man was so...fun. They actually looked like they were having fun rather than trying to squeeze as much money out of the crowd as they could. 

Baz swallowed thickly, thinking of the hundred dollar bills he had put towards Snow in the tip jars that were set out as a friendly competition among the performers. Whoever pulled in the most for the night would be doing an encore performance and Baz was not afraid to admit (to himself) that he was rather hoping to see that young man back on the stage. 

"Not so bad now, huh?" Niall asked as he bumped his friend's shoulder. "Club Chimera is known for making their performances high-energy and fun rather than sleazy."

"See, cousin?" Dev snickered. "We're always looking out for you."

He had to wonder just how many of these stripper places Dev and Niall had been to together in the name of finding a good one for him. Heterosexuals indeed.

"Who did you put your money towards? In the tip jars." he asked as conversationally as he could. He was not above getting his rich friends to help him in the endeavor of seeing that freckled sun god again. 

"I'm going to wait until we see them all," Dev replied before swallowing down another drink.

"That's a good idea!" Niall jumped in, his fingers skating gently over Dev's elbow before they found their way to a cool glass. "Wouldn't be fair to the later performers if we chose now."

"How altruistic," Baz drawled. The other two snickered and leaned forward to enjoy the show. 

They were all standing around a Highboy cocktail table and enjoying their drinks and greasy fries. Baz had demanded a fork and was secretly grateful for it because the junk food was utterly delectable. He didn't allow himself such pedestrian food often, so he felt ecstatic for indulging. At least, he did until a pair of stunning blue eyes caught him with a mouth stuffed with the greasy, cheesy, and otherwise smothered potatoes.

"Hello gentleman," the young man greeted, his speaking voice sending pleasurable tingles down Baz's spine. He was in denim hot shorts that could barely contain those sinful thighs and a white t-shirt stretched over his chest and shoulders. "We're going to be doing a lot of drawings tonight, so please feel free to fill out these raffle tickets. Uh, it's, uh, one per check on that card you got at the entrance? Yup, those."

Baz hastily swallowed down the mouthful of carbohydrates as Snow divvied out the raffle tickets and provided pens for them to write their information on.

"We should get some more of those rum and cokes!" Dev muttered excitedly. Those are extra tickets."

A crooked smile lit up the man's face and Baz couldn't keep himself from gaping foolishly. 

"Yeah! We've got some real fun treats including a couple of strip teases with the performer of your choice." All three hands seemed to scrabble down their information even faster. "Oh, but you can also get extra raffles when you buy some of the non-alcoholic drinks too. It's these on the menu." 

Even though he had an undercut, Snow's hand went up to seemingly tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. It was a ridiculously endearing nervous gesture and Baz clung desperately to his self-control before he melted into a puddle at the man's feet. Feet that were currently strutting around in stripper heels. Baz actually choked on his spit and coughed as discreetly as he could into his elbow. Snow would be a few inches shorter than him without those heels on and the mental image of being able to tuck his chin over the other's shoulder as he shuffled up behind him for an embrace was shockingly domestic.

Was that what people usually thought about when they were harboring a crush on a stripper? Late morning breakfasts and nuzzling into that showy neck?

Their tickets were soon filled out and Snow offered a wider smile, his eyes roaming over Baz's figure before snapping away quickly and then he strutted off to another table. It was the first time that Baz realized that all of the dancers that weren't currently performing were doing the same thing. Whoever ran this place was probably going to make a ton of money tonight. Biting his lip and glancing coolly over the room, Baz wondered if he'd be lucky enough to get one of those dances.

*****

"Are you sure that was his name, bro?" Shep snickered as he and Simon sifted through all the raffle tickets in Simon's bucket quickly. These drawings were technically supposed to be random.

"Yeah, I peeked at it. Baz. B-A-Z."

Pushing up his nose with the back of his hand out of habit, Shep quickly returned to hunting for a ticket with the desired name on it. He always forgot that he wore contacts while at work. 

"What if he picks someone else for the striptease?" he asked. As Simon's second best friend and steadfast wingman, he needed to make sure to cover all the bases.

Simon's nose wrinkled in thought. 

"Well, I hadn't really thought about that. He definitely seemed into me." Shepard raised his eyebrows. "I mean, I know that I'm not the most clued in when it comes to this stuff but there was definitely something between us." He stood to his full height and sighed softly. "I mean, it's probably just wishful thinking. He's here for a good time, not like he's trying to find a boyfriend. And even if he did like me, he probably'd just want a fuck or something. To say he fucked a stripper."

A dark hand rested against the golden man's shoulder. "Hey man, no need to go off the deep end with that kind of shit." Shepard's smile always made Simon feel better, so he settled into the contented feeling and leaned into the provided side-hug. "You're doing this because you like it and you're good at it. People wanting to fuck you is part of the job description, but if he's just another jerk who wants a bit of free fun you have every right to tell him to burn in hell."

Nodding, Simon offered a smile back. "Thanks, Shep."

"No prob, bro. Let's just find it before Bellamy finds us tampering with the results back here and kicks our asses."

They eventually found one of the tickets with that elegantly written name and Simon felt his heart flutter. This wasn't _Pretty Woman_ or anything ridiculous, and he wasn't even looking for some rich guy to come sweep him off his feet. There had been plenty of guys who had offered to sweep him off his feet since he started performing at 18, but none of them had really understood him or even wanted to know him. They just wanted to get an ego boost over "rescuing" some "poor lad in desperate need" from this life of "horror" so that he could be whisked away to their crappy suburban home where he'd spend his days as a fuck sleeve for them. 

"No thank you," he mumbled to the memory of the last man who had tried that on him. 

That man had been going through a divorce and had three teenage kids, not exactly Simon's type. The dad status was much more palatable than the sleazy vibe and drooling mouth. Coming to a stop before he reached Ms. Possibelf, Simon was struck by the idea of the stranger, Baz, carrying a toddler on his hip. The scene looked so perfectly natural in his mind's eye, those uptight shoulders relaxed and one of those thick elegant eyebrows uplifted in amusement at whatever the child was babbling about. 

Huh, that was a definite first. 

Simon had lately been toying with the idea that he was somewhere on the asexual spectrum because he just didn't seem to get hot under the collar for anyone really. In this business he was exposed to a lot of naked and mostly naked bodies, but to him it was just like all the time he had spent at the foster homes. Bodies were clinical, something that everyone had, but he hadn't ever really found a body that made him _need_ to touch it. He also wasn't prone to imagining domestic scenes with people who he found aesthetically pleasing. 

This Baz had already brought a warm flush to his cheeks and a flutter to his stomach. Would anyone blame him for hoping that the man would choose him for a strip tease? For getting a chance to grind down on that lap? 

"I'm going to need a fuck-ton of scones after the shift," he whispered to Shepard after Bellamy took the winning raffle tickets to make her announcement. 

Stress eating was the only thing he found to help with his overwhelming emotions if the dancing didn't and his fellow stripper rose an amused eyebrow. 

"Sure thing," he snorted before dragging Simon towards the back of the stage where they could peek out into the crowd while the recipients of the first round of strip-teases was announced. "And you're going to have to help me find Penny's name for the next round of drawing, Simon."

"Sure," Simon replied before offering a distracted fist bump. 

Applause screamed through the building as the names were called out and Shep elbowed Simon and pointed to the back where Baz's friends were laughing and slapping him on the back before shoving him towards the private rooms where he would be making his request for performer. 

Ms. Possibelf smacked Simon with a rolled up calendar as she scanned her digital tablet that helped keep the show running tightly. 

"You're requested in room six, Snow. Omaha, get ready for another dance; you'll be right up after Toby."

Shep threw a wink at Simon and the freckled man quickly ran into the changing room for a hasty costume change. What would Baz like? Really masc? Androgynous? He didn't exactly have the best body type to pull that off with as stocky as he was, but he could try. More make-up? Less? 

Taking a deep breath he decided to just stick with the theme of the calendar and the show: cowboys. He reapplied the star-shaped pasties with the shimmery tassels and pulled over a button-up and a vest. He switched his white thong for a red one and made sure he was well tucked into it before pulling on the denims and then the socks and boots. He really loved the shine of the white leather and the delicate rhinestones that complimented the red stars stitched new the top of the boots. For good measure he added a bit of gloss to his lips and touched up a bit of the glitter that always did a good job of making his numerous freckles somewhat tolerable.

"Okay, let's do this," Simon encouraged himself before he pushed his shoulders back and swaggered out towards the private rooms. Pushing the crimson curtain aside, he stepped in and had to take a shaky breath in before uttering a falsely confident, "Howdy."

Baz was leaning back in the sofa chair, one arm lazily propping his head up at the temple and a glass of whiskey loosely held in the other hand. He looked arrogant and almost bored and Simon wondered at the tightening feeling binding his chest and making his heart race increase.

"Cute," that pouty mouth drawled in mockery and Simon almost felt embarrassed. "There's no need to go overboard with the charade."

The idea of punching this beautiful man in the nose seemed suddenly appealing.

"You're the one who requested me," he shot back with a jutted chin. "Cheesy lines and all. I can go get another dancer if you'd prefer."

There was a barely perceptible widening of those eyes - panic - before Baz straightened up and shrugged. "You're fine. Carry on."

Feeling a bit more confident, Simon moved over to the music player and made his selection. The guitar strumming danced playfully through the air as he walked around the customer who on closer inspection was already looking a bit hot under the collar. 

_"Yea~ah, I hear ya come knockin' on my door, baby, tell me what you got on your mind~"_

Baz swallowed thickly as Simon swaggered in front of him. The stripper started with slow and careful body rolls that took him closer to the suit-wearing man and allowed his hands to carefully drag down his denim-clad thighs before dragging them up and lightly palming over his crotch. That mouth might have been set in the stone of indifference, but those grey eyes couldn't hide the man's true feelings as they widened more and stared hungrily at every motion. 

Simon threw a leg over those mile long legs and barely allowed any pressure on the lap as he teased at the buttons on his vest while lipping the opening of the chorus.

_"Who's your Daddy~? Who's your Baby? Who's your buddy? Who's your friend?"_

The pseudo ragtime piano music filled the room as Simon swayed his hips softly before the chorus echoed through again. 

_"I've got the money, you've got the honey~ Let's cut a deal, let's make a plan~"_

Grinding down firmly once, Simon slid back to make Baz sweat a bit more and give himself a moment to calm down as he teased his fingers along the edge of his jeans. A slow twist allowed him to offer an unobstructed view of his ass and he tugged down on the jeans far enough to expose the top of the red thong. A glance over his shoulder revealed the bright blush creeping up that flawlessly tanned neck and over the bridge of that high-set nose. 

With a dramatic shrug of his shoulders the vest was off and dropped on the floor. He was only one clothing item down but already felt a lot more tension building in the room than he usually did. He was completely focused on the young man seated before him, forgetting that there was even a world outside of the dim room.

_"Who's your Daddy~? Who's your Baby? Who's your buddy? Who's your man~?"_

The shirt was being unbuttoned perhaps a little faster than he should have been, but even Simon was feeling overheated. Fuck, he wasn't sure which idea was hotter, him calling this suit Daddy or hearing those words being gasped up at him. 

Simon was sure that this room was going to combust before he finished.

*****

Snow was going to set him on actual fire.

It had been almost impossible for Baz to keep his unaffected mask up with the way that those hips moved, and the peek at that thong was enough to cause the sweat to break out on his forehead. Stevie and Nicks, why did he think this was a good idea? He was an inexperienced gay in the thrall of a stripper who was _touching_ him. What if he accidentally messed his pants while that firm ass was rubbing against his crotch so sinfully? And why did this song have to talk about being a _Daddy_ of all things?! It was practically a scene out of his favorite type of fanfiction smut!

Please, where else was he going to get the fodder to feed his perverted fantasies? Mainstream media?

Damn Dev and Niall to the deepest pits of hell for putting him into this torturous position. He could conveniently pretend that he had absolutely nothing with filling out his information on those raffle tickets. 

The glorious beauty of a man was on his lap again and biting his lips as he teasingly tugged at Baz's tie. Why had he even decided on wearing the blasted thing at a strip club?! It tightened briefly and made him swallow thickly again, eyes unable to keep off of those freckles beautifully shimmering in the low lights with what he could only guess was body glitter. The jean clad crotch ground down more firmly against his own and Baz couldn't help the low moan even as his hands clenched against the arm of the chair and his forgotten glass of whiskey. 

Deft fingers plucked the glass away before he could shatter it in his grip and Snow took a brazen gulp, his lips sliding where Baz's had minutes ago. It was enough to make Baz's head swim. Fuck, he had to remember the rules! No touching, just being touched. 

If this experience didn't kill him he was definitely going to kill his friends.

Hands traveled teasingly over his shoulders and Snow's half unbuttoned shirt fell off a shoulder and Baz could clearly see half of one of those garish star-shaped nipple tassels. There was no logical reason that those things should be arousing, but his cock didn't seem to care the slightest bit. There was a man writhing on his lap, case closed. 

_"Who's your Daddy~? Who's your Baby? Who's your buddy? Who's your man?"_

The man was back to standing, the shirt sliding down his shoulders before catching at his elbows. He offered a wink as he dipped his hips and kicked off his boots with practiced ease. With a final shrug and body roll the shirt was dropped leaving him with nothing but his denims to remove. He tipped his hat teasingly with a laugh and Baz didn't even notice the smile that curled on his normally surly lips. 

Tassels caught the low lights as Simon shimmied, his hips swaying and the jeans slipping down inch by agonizing inch and revealing even more freckles and moles that were just begging to be lavished in kisses. Strong hands brushed against the front of the denims, palming at the mouth-watering bulge and in a move that looked like actual magic the stripper just stepped out of the article of clothing and left them to crumple in a puddle. 

"Who's your maa~an?" Snow sang as he straddled Baz again, only music now playing. 

Bronze arms wrapped around his shoulders and Baz struggled desperately to keep his hands clenched on the armrests instead of grabbing handfuls of that perfect ass. Snow wasn't making this easy on him as he bit his lip and tried to smother his own moans as he rutted against Baz's hardness. The familiar fuzziness was filling his mind and Baz was desperately trying to remember if he could get in trouble for actually ejaculating under the stimulation when those lips brushed against his sensitive ear.

"W-wha?" he asked dumbly, sure that he had misheard.

Snow offered a nip to the earlobe before repeating himself.

"My birthday's coming up, so why don't you give me a little gift, Papi?"

There wasn't really much point in keeping up his facade of control and Baz just tried to not embarrass himself as he nodded eagerly. 

"Anything."

Crowley, he hoped the vixen didn't ask him to empty out his pockets and provide credit cards.

"Gimme a kiss," he muttered as the music drew to a close.

Helpless to resist the request, Baz leaned forward and smashed their lips together. Snow laughed in delight at the graceless maneuver and Baz would have pulled away in embarrassment if those arms hadn't squeezed him tight and kept in place as the man parted his lips and began to reciprocate with just as much enthusiasm. His fingers wound through Baz's thick hair and tugged it to get Baz's head tilted back in a more accommodating position and the young Grimm-Pitch Heir wrapped his arms around that snatched waist while one hand dropped to grope at that delicious mound of flesh. 

A moan poured into his inexperienced mouth and Baz deliriously thought that he could quite easily kiss these lips for eternity. It's not like he had any other kisses to compare to this, but surely this was a kiss for the record books. Heat built between them, their gasps and whimpers filling the air in lieu of music until Baz had no choice but to pull back to gasp for air and then immediately let out a shuddering groan as he thrusted up into that crotch and rode out his orgasm. 

Blue eyes glittered in amusement and Snow leaned forward and offered tender nips and kisses while Baz tried to settle back down into reality.

"S-sorry," Baz drawled through a sloppy kiss. "Ah shit," he grumbled realizing that he hadn't exactly brought any extra clothes.

"Don't worry," Snow laughed. "Come back stage with me and I'll get you an extra pair from my bag. If...if you want. 'Cause it's kinda my fault."

"It's absolutely your fault," Baz huffed, wiping at his sweaty brow. "Am I even allowed back there?"

A mischievous wink was his only response and after Snow pulled his jeans on and gathered the rest of his clothes he took Baz through the back passage that allowed them to bypass the crowd. Getting to the dressing room, Snow pressed a hand against his chest and motioned for him to stay put for a second while he went in. There were a few performers taking a break, but after a bit of playful conversation they were gone and the man locked the door.

"C'mere, Papi, the coast is clear."

Baz swallowed thickly at the term of endearment and stepped into the bright and heavily mirrored room. The reflection in front of him provided an unobstructed view of that ass in the air while the stripper shuffled through his bag.

"Thanks," he choked out through a dry throat when he was offered a pair of boxer briefs. They'd probably be a little loose on him, but it would be preferable to the uncomfortable wetness.

"Oh, here's the washroom," Snow offered, opening a door. "So you can wash off." 

He added a washcloth to the undergarment in Baz's hand and the young businessman felt mortified and also grateful. 

"I appreciate it," he muttered before closing himself in the room and cleaning up as quickly as possible. 

It didn't take long, but he considered hiding out longer out of sheer embarrassment. How often did the poor guy have to deal with overexcited customers? A sinking feeling settled in his gut at the realization that that's all he was to Snow, another customer. A horny customer at that who couldn't even keep himself under control. Shame and anger at himself swelled in his chest and he had to splash some water on his face to get himself back under some kind of control. Once he was sure that his mask was back in place he pressed open the door. 

Snow was pulling those cutoffs up and over his ass when Baz stepped out and it took a good deal of effort to keep his eyes from staring. Baz made his grey eyes remain firmly on that smiling face as he held out the washcloth uncertainly.

"Thank you for your kind gesture," he stated stiffly. "And...I rinsed this off, but I don't know...what do to with it."

That smile faded a little and Snow swallowed, the gesture obscenely showy and it made Baz's face burn in frustration as he tried to keep control of his features.

"Oh, um, I'll just...put it in my wetbag." He pulled a cloth hamper out of his bag and Baz shoved the washcloth in there as if it was on fire. 

"Thank you again," he grit out and nodded firmly as if they had just completed a business transaction. Which is really all they had done. "I'll leave a good tip."

He winced at the callous tone of his voice and the smile completely disappeared from the other man's face. Keeping the wetbag clutched at his chest, Snow nodded in quick jerks, the bronze curls bouncing with the gesture.

"Of c-course. I appreciate it."

Awkwardness filled the space and after a breath Baz turned on his heel and unlocked the door before rushing out of there as fast as he could. Crowley, what a fool he was.

*****

He was a fucking fool.

Simon felt the rush of angry hot tears to his eyes as the door clicked behind Baz and he hunched over the bag as he tried to take deep calming breaths. Why had he thought that there would be any other outcome to the dance? He was a professional; it was his _job_ to bring the client pleasure. That's why he was paid and while it didn't usually bother him, tonight it stung. 

It wasn't a lie when he said that his birthday was coming up as he would turn 22 in a few short days, but he felt supremely stupid for breaking the company's policies and asking for a kiss. The clients weren't allowed to touch and he had brazenly thrown that rule out for a little make-out and grope session and what had that gotten him? A tip.

A fucking tip.

"You've still got a few hours of work," he told himself between clenched teeth. "Get your shit together!"

Why did it hurt so much? He didn't even know that guy! It was just another rich boy out celebrating his thousands or millions with his friends, having a little bit of fun. Simon was nothing to them, his annual income probably not even touching their monthly allowance. He was a stripper, for fuck's sake! No education past his high school diploma, deplorable communication skills, a bland and touchy personality that could barely keep two friends in his life - not exactly a temptation to someone from the upper crust of society.

Stepping into the washroom he splashed some water on his face and took deep shuddering breaths. He'd be okay. It was just another night at work. 

Blinking through the water, Simon felt the hot tears run down before he angrily washed them away. Not allowing himself a pity party, he quickly dabbed at his face and then re-applied some of the body glitter to his cheeks and nose. A little concealer went to cover the red and puffy skin under his eyes and after a few more touch-ups he was out there delivering drinks and flirting with the customers. He made sure to avoid Shep until it was close to time to do another drawing. 

As promised he helped his friend find one of Penny's raffle tickets before rushing off with an excuse of being needed elsewhere. He didn't want to be asked about what had happened in that private room.

Another round on the stage to upbeat music should have helped him burn enough energy to settle down but through his smile Simon felt even more agitated. He couldn't keep his eyes from searching through the crowd for those grey eyes and that condescending mouth, and not finding him made Simon feel even worse. The crisp bills clenched in his fists as he stepped off the stage felt almost repulsive and he tossed them carelessly into his bag before sitting on the bench and hanging his head in his hands and clutching at his hair. 

Agatha asked if there was something wrong, but he just brushed her off and decided to take a smoke break. 

Smoking wasn't a vice that Simon engaged in often because he didn't like the coughing that would come on him when he smoked too much but it felt necessary tonight, the nicotine a drug to force his nerves to calm the hell down so that he could finish his shift without going off on anyone. Bellamy would probably let him go home early if he really had to but rent was coming up and he was getting so close to having enough saved up for the Route 66 road trip across the States he'd been planning since high school. Shep had promised to teach him how to drive so that he could rent a classic convertible for the trip and this dream was so close to reality that he couldn't afford to slack off at all. 

He took a deeper inhale of the smoke than usual and allowed it to settle in his chest before slowly exhaling and watching the smoke swirl up. Some times he pretended that he was an ancient and powerful dragon as he watched that smoke drift towards the dark sky. It was hard to feel very powerful tonight when he felt so foolish. 

The rules were in place to keep things like this from happening and he had ignored them because he thought that things would be different. That someone as strikingly different as Baz would be a risk worth taking. 

As usual, he was dead wrong. 

Grumbling in annoyance, Simon tossed his crumpled up cigarette and lit up another one.

*****

"Crowley, Baz," Malcolm hissed in irritation as his first born strutted towards the private plane 30 minutes late and looking a bit peaky. "You're too old to be doing this."

Baz shrugged before pushing his oversized sunglasses a bit higher up on his nose. He looked like absolute shit and even a bit of makeup wasn't able to hide much of it. Not the bloodshot eyes and the dazed and miserable expression. 

"My apologies, Father," he forced out as he adjusted his cuff links and followed Malcolm up the steps into their private jet. "It won't happen again." 

Because he was never going out with Dev and Niall again.

"It better not," the older man grumbled before sitting heavily in his favorite seat. The jet was large enough to hold three times the number of their family but Malcolm had the habit of sitting in the same seat every time they flew. "Now, let's go over the itinerary."

His mouth twisted into a disapproving frown when Baz collapsed into the seat and kept his sunglasses on while pulling out the papers from the folder handed to him by the attendant. 

The meeting progressed much as it always did, with Malcolm talking and Baz nodding demurely. It was going to be a solid month of travel and inspecting plants and plots of land. They were negotiating to buy another several hundred acres so that they could further develop organic fertilizer to ship to their crops, and all the words began to jumble in the young man's head. Acres, phosphate, pH balance, bacterium...

Freckles and a hot slick mouth caressing his lips. 

Baz cleared his throat and shook his head before gesturing for the attendant to bring him a stiff drink. He didn't care how annoyed his father looked, he needed some liquid courage to straighten his head out and get with it. The whole empire was to be handed down to him whenever his father could no longer take care of things and there was so much to learn and do. It didn't matter that he had no interest in cattle or the chemical components in their four stomachs - it was what he'd been trained for.

The family legacy would continue.

Thick thighs squeezing his hips while that crotch pressed down against him until he was a quivering panting mess.

Malcolm wasn't looking at him anymore and Baz stared out the window as he swallowed down the sour drink. Dev was probably going to hear it from his father, Malcolm's brother, and Niall would be chastised too. They were supposed to be helping Baz keep on the straight and narrow, not encouraging him to indulge in his baser desires. 

His lips pressed into a tight line as he remembered fleeing the strip club with the two confused men in tow. They had tried to pry the truth out of him, but he had just snapped at them and chain smoked a pack of cigarettes before he got back to his apartment and spent the rest of the night crying into his pillow. It had felt so _good_ , kissing another man and feeling his body. That had been the most satisfying orgasm of his young life and Baz was terrified that he would never be able to have that again. 

_"C'mere, Papi..."_ that stripper had said so easily, so naturally and he had never felt so right with another person. 

Really? Papi? Like those nipple tassels, there was no logical reason that he could think of for that term to make him feel so warm but it did. Those arms around his neck and that laughing mouth over his...it had been the best experience of his life and it had been too much. It was with a _stripper_ , not a boyfriend. Last night was nothing but a sad reminder that he was a lonely man who was desperate for any kind of affection. He was not going to make that mistake again, regardless of Dev and Niall's cajoling. 

Glaring angrily at the window, Baz determined that he was just going to have to forget ever making that mistake. It would be nothing but focused work and business deals for him from here on out.

Normal life droned on in a familiar tune for the next couple of weeks. Hotel rooms, late nights spent analyzing numbers and sending countless emails. Presentations on manure and CO2. Arguments with the lobbyists.

Grey eyes blinked slowly as they took in another heated argument between Malcolm and the "socialist and left-wing eco-terrorist" Davy Mage. The two older men had gone to college together or some such nonsense and had always been at each other's throats and disagreed about _everything_. Baz tuned out their familiar disagreements and wondered (not for the first time) if they would still be this argumentative so many years later if his father had just given in to temptation and fucked Davy while they were in school. Maybe Daphne was an open-minded wife and wouldn't mind some non-traditional negotiations? 

The thought made him snicker and he hid the sound behind his bottle of water and spun his chair to face away from the two men. Chromsky, he was getting delirious from the lack of proper sleep and the stress of ignoring the still burning desire to hop on a flight and head back to the strip club to beg for forgiveness for being an utter ass about the lap dance. The past couple of weeks had not been enough for Baz to overcome his weak heart's desires. The incessant wanking hadn't helped either. Maybe he could try flirting with one of his father's business associates? That Lamb guy had looked interested and if worst came to worst Malcolm would just send Baz back to the home office to continue the work from there.

He'd be that much closer to the Club Chimera.

Plotting out the best ways to make that scenario a possibility, Baz was completely taken aback when he heard a familiar voice calling from the door of the meeting room.

"Mr. Mage? I've got those reports you needed."

Completely devoid of any control over his faculties, Baz whirled back around in his chair and gaped at the young man standing at the door with a stack of papers in his arms. Blue eyes stared back at him in just as much shock before that perfect mouth twisted into a snarl. Snow dropped the papers on the large table before stalking up and punching the stupefied man in the face.

***** 

"I'm _fine_ ," Baz insisted while his father dabbed at the bloody nose and shot dirty looks their way. 

Davy was clenching Simon's arm tightly. "What the hell, Simon?!" he hissed.

An angry blush was painted over Simon's golden cheeks and he tried to tamp down the embarrassment so that he could speak properly. Fuck, this was terrible.

"I'm s-sorry," he muttered, looking at the blood drying on his knuckles. "It was...I mean, he..."

Seven snakes, how was he supposed to tell Davy that he'd been on this man's lap a couple of weeks ago and was pissed off because he had wanted more than a employee was supposed to want?

"Fucking shit," Davy groaned as realization dawned. "He's a _customer_?"

"He's the one who paid to watch!" Simon protested. His job at the strip club had been a point of contention between him and his former foster dad since he started there, but Simon had stuck with it because he really did enjoy the work and the pay was more than he could make anywhere else with his current lack of college education and work experience. "I didn't, like, fucking drag him in there!"

Just...sat on his lap and gave him a free necking and grinding session.

The shame must have been spelled out on his face because Davy was turning an angry red now.

"Did he try anything on you?" he asked sharply. "I swear, I'll sue the fucking pants off-"

"No! Well, not exactly, not like that, n-not..."

Simon groaned as he put his reddened face in his hands. Davy might have hated Simon's job and thought it demeaning, but the man had a zero-tolerance policy when it came to injustices. His burning anger at that moment was actually the most paternal thing the man had ever done and Simon felt his emotions swirling in more confusion. 

"Davy, explain this right now," Malcolm demanded as he stepped away from his son. Bright red blood was blooming over the white handkerchief held against the potentially broken nose.

"Fah-dder," Baz tried to interrupt, his words a bit stuffy from the busted nose.

"Why don't you ask your son, Malcolm?" Davy bit back.

Simon winced and was mentally berating himself for this whole mess. So what if Baz had been a prick? Plenty of people at the club were! And he didn't go around decking people if he stumbled across them outside of the workplace. Not unless they tried to assault him, but that rarely ever happened. Baz had just been sitting there like a stupid goldfish or something.

Baz stood up as elegantly as he could with blood running down his face and staining the front of his shirt. "Mr...Snow?"

"Salisbury," Simon sighed. 

"Mr. Salisbury and I can handle thish with a private conversation."

The two men continued to glare at each other so Baz rolled his eyes and gestured for the other young man to follow him out of the meeting room. Simon frowned deeply but followed after him. This was humiliating. He should have been able to keep himself in check, but he'd been stewing over Baz for weeks. When Davy visited him for his birthday he'd jumped on the offer to go with them man on meetings for a few weeks until his usual aide recovered from foot surgery. 

He thought it would give him a chance to keep far away from potentially running into Baz and give him the chance to cool off, but those weeks had only served to steep that anger and hurt even longer. 

They stepped into a private office and Simon almost laughed at the irony, the two of them being in another enclosed room for privacy. "What do you want, Baz?" he snapped in agitation. 

Baz pulled the handkerchief from his nose and stared at the bright blood with distaste. 

"I should be asking that, Mr. Salisbury," he shot back, his deep voice still hilariously stuffy. "You're the one who punched me."

"Simon," he bit out, the anger bubbling up. "Call me Simon."

"Whatever. Simon, why did you feel it necessary to _punch_ me in the middle of a board meeting?"

The room was already feeling stuffy and Simon began pacing. He needed to _move_ or he was going to just go off on this asshole.

"It's just what I'd been planning to do if I ever saw you again, okay?!" 

Bloody lips snarled angrily and Simon felt his breath stuttering in his chest again. 

"I don't think that I did anything deserving a fucking punch."

"Yeah, because I'm just a fucking commodity, right?" Simon growled while stalking forward. Baz tilted his chin up and stared down his bruising and bloodied nose at the fuming man. "Because I'm a stripper and there's no need for anything like fucking decency when you're finished with me, right?"

"I've been _trying_ to think of the best way to apologize," Baz grit out in frustration, "but it's not like I could just up and leave in the middle of my work here!"

The heat radiating from Simon's face warmed up another few degrees and he almost felt dizzy. Baz was really here, talking about apologizing while his voice was still dripping condescension. 

"Do you have to be an ass even talking about apologizing?!"

"Sorry, Snow, but it's just in my genetics to be an asshole," he drawled as best as he could. Fresh blood was starting to seep out of the nose again. "At least I have enough sense not to fucking _punch_ people."

"Crowley, I just want to..." Simon clenched his fist tightly. He just wanted to shut that hateful mouth up.

His heart leapt into his throat as he saw those stormy grey eyes drop to his mouth. Shoving Baz against the closest wall, Simon leaned up and pressed closely against him, their lips almost touching. He waited for a beat to see if Baz would reject the advance and when he didn't Simon moved up the rest of the way hungrily attacked those lips.

A string of curse words hissed against his lips as Baz pulled back with eyes wet from the pain in his nose. Simon rolled his eyes and just tilted Baz's head into a better position.

"Just keep your head like this, Papi," he whispered before swallowing down the sharp words and feeling that burning energy spread throughout all of his limbs. 

Arms wrapped around him and held him tightly while their tongues tangled sloppily and teeth nipped. Baz would groan in pain when he tried to breath through his nose, but Simon didn't let up the attack on those lips. He was struck with fear that if they stopped kissing things might end the way they had that night a couple of weeks ago. 

"F-fuck," Baz moaned, blood smearing between them. 

"I don't...want a...fucking tip," Simon smacked between kisses.

"What do you...ouch...for the love of..." Baz couldn't quite keep up with the urgency in the shorter man. He pushed Simon back by the shoulder's just enough to catch his breath. "I really think my nose is broken, Simon."

"Okay," Simon panted, his blue eyes darting over the reddened face. "I can take you to the hospital or something."

"That would be wonderful."

Both continued holding each other and panting. There was now blood smearing across Simon's face and down the front of his cheap white Walmart button-up, and Baz rose an eyebrow and offered a smirk.

"I've got a spare in my suitcase if you want to swing by my hotel."

"Asking me to your room already?" Simon purred and Baz choked on his spit which only made the shorter man guffaw in amusement. "Okay, let's get you to that hospital before you pass out from blood loss. I can't exactly drive, but I can get an Uber. Let's just go let them know-"

"Just leave them be," Baz interrupted before gesturing to their disheveled states. "I don't want to explain why you're wearing my blood. And I don't want to walk in on those two doing anything either. Just in case they've finally decided to resolve that sexual tension or something." 

A horrified expression crossed over Simon's face and it was Baz's turn to laugh, tears running down his cheeks from the pain. 

*****

"So...what exactly were you planning on apologizing to me for?" Simon asked quietly as the two of them sat in the quiet waiting room.

The large televisions were currently set on a game show channel, the contestants squealing in excitement and trying to make their guesses. Ice adjusted in the pack Baz was currently holding over his face while they waited for a doctor to take them back. 

"I was going to apologize for..." Baz broke off and sighed before cursing a bit and leaning back in his seat a bit more. Those long legs stretched out in front of him, maroon slacks exposing the bony ankles and fancy leather shoes. Galoshes? Oxfords? Cambridges? Simon didn't know what they were called. "For leaving so abruptly and rudely. I didn't mean to be...like that."

"What did you mean, then?"

Simon rubbed at his tender knuckles nervously and tried not to fidget too much. He really wanted to be walking.

"I've not been out of the closet very long," he finally replied softly, voice muffled by the ice pack. "And I've never had a boyfriend or anything. Dev and Niall just wanted me to have a bit of fun and well...I got a bit overwhelmed."

"Oh shit, man." Simon deflated at the confession. Baz had seemed so self assured in the way that he carried himself and Simon had never suspected that he was dealing with an inexperienced guy. "Crowley, and I...you must have been mortified when I made you jizz your pants." Now he was feeling like a complete ass.

"I'd never been in a strip club and didn't know if I could get in trouble for that," Baz admitted. "And I tried to obey all the rules, but...it was so hard with you."

Simon wanted to jump on that "hard" pun but decided against it. The dark-haired man had shown himself sensitive and defensive and he didn't want to hurt his feelings anymore than he had.

"Uh, yeah, I wasn't making it easy for you."

Baz nodded, his eyes still closed. 

"It was really good," he complimented. "I mean, obviously. I messed myself like a fucking teenager."

Looking down at his hands, Simon decided to slowly and carefully set his hand on Baz's knee. The slacks felt cool and smooth under his own calloused hands.

"I was kind of going all out on you too," he admitted. "We're not really supposed to be pushing that hard at the clients or, um, like kissing them and stuff." His face was burning in embarrassment at saying these things, but it was only fair. "I just wanted to. With you."

The ice pack sloshed a little as Baz pulled it away from his swollen face. Puffy eyes opened and stared at Simon with a look that verged on vulnerable. "You did?"

"Yeah."

More cheering came from the televisions and the two men sat quietly, lost in their own thoughts. Cool fingers tentatively stroked at the back of Simon's hand and blue eyes jumped up to see Baz still watching him. 

"I...would you forgive me, Simon? And maybe...if you want...would it be okay to get to know you a bit better?"

A bashful blush colored his freckled cheeks and Simon softly turned his hand palm up to take that hand carefully in his own.

"I think that I'd really like to get to know you better, Baz."

The smile that curled on his lips made Simon feel a happy little flame of warmth in his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this! My plot was inspired by [this](https://simonsnowsfreckles.tumblr.com/post/632071067103641600/giddy-up-baz) fanart by @simonsnowsfreckles on Tumblr. Thank you for the beautiful art, Larn!


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